A Camp So Pitch Black
by RequiemTales
Summary: Jack Frost, a Jewish boy, is forced into a Concentration Camp headed by the cruel Pitchiner Kozmotiz who takes interest in him immediately. In a world where the only thing people desire is escape, Jack keeps his rebellion high and ensures that he will not be one of the damned. Though, how is it that he can come to love the very man that keeps him imprisoned? (WWII AU,Smut,Blackice)
1. Chapter 1- A Search of the Premises

**A/N: **This author's note is going to be slightly long because, for such a touchy story idea, I feel the need to make disclaimers.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own RoTG nor the books. This is just a work of fiction for entertainment.

**Wanrings: **There will be mentions of rape. There will be physical and psychological abuse. Rough language and slurs, and emotional taxation.

**P.S.: **This story is _not _in _anyway _supposed to romanticize the Holocaust, Hitler's beliefs, nor the treatment and relationships between the Jewish people and the Nazis. I am not trying to offend anyone with the slang or terminology used in this story. I will try to keep this story as Historically accurate as possible, though, due to the plot and my lack of absolute knowledge of this time period…Things will definitely have inaccurate terminology and events that may have not been exactly possible. Once again, I am not trying to trigger, upset, or romanticize anything.

* * *

There was but a wall separating him and what could only be considerable demons.

His whiskey eyes flickered about, his breath held tight in his throat. He felt constricted, tense, every nerve was taut. He pulled his knees closer to his chest and the blood pounding through his veins seemed so loud he was sure they could hear him. The loud thumps of his heart rivaled their pristine black boots as they marched about the house as if they owned it, as if it were nothing more than garbage.

_Oh no no no they can't hear me, don't let them hear me._

Constant terror, fear, such a heavy burden for someone so young, the teenager slowly exhaled and relieved the pain from his lungs. He then repeated the process, breathing in a slow, shaky breath. He had to keep breathing but the fear of taking even a single breath at the wrong time was horrifying, if they heard him, it'd all be over.

They're shoes were so loud. It was as if they wanted the whole world to hear them, to hear what they were doing for what they assumed to be the greater good of the country. The way they stomped holes right through his floorboards with authority made the boy cringe and it took all of his willpower not to gag. He desperately wanted to puke.

_Someone's got to take care of Emily when they leave. I have to be quiet._

Not a peep, not a hint of sound.

_My name is Jack Frost; they can't take that from me. Ever. I am…Jackson Overland Frost. Jackson…Overland…Frost…_

The mantra was an anchor and Jack's mind reached for it with grabby hands, desperate to stay calm in such perpetual terror. Any moment, _any _moment he expected these men with those loud shoes and gleaming black hats to throw open his hiding spot and claim him…To take him away, so far away. He was no fool, if he was caught, it would all be over.

For a second everything seemed quiet, Jack presumed the soldiers were inspecting the downstairs of what was once his beautiful house. He closed his eyes and could envision the once vibrant curtains that matched equally stylish couches and tables, doilies too. If the teenager focused, he could keep that image and insert Emily and him listening to the radio while doing homework. But, they lately had been avoiding the radio for all it held were the voices of anger and the words of hatred. Emily didn't need to hear that.

But, like his life now, that image of their home shattered.

There were no clean curtains with lace fringe on the ends nor white leather couches to match equally pristine doilies. The windows didn't reveal sunny days and starry nights, laughing people strolling by. All it was, was a world in catastrophe. All Jack could see were those empty streets and hateful words, the graffiti of posters and bashes of his kind.

_What did I do?_

Jack opened his eyes slowly. The sound of clacking boots was now a distant memory and perhaps, just perhaps he had missed their leaving. Could it be? Had he made it? But…Wouldn't he have heard their departure? Had they come back up the stairs? Was Emily okay?

_Emily….Oh God, Emily…_

The teenager with eyes so full of life strained his ears. There it was, an echo of that authority. He could hear loud voices from the basement stairs. They were still here; Emily and he were still in danger. Jack calmed himself, hyperventilation threatening to take over. He moved his hands from around his knees and wrapped them around his head, he felt as if he was going to explode. The pressure, the idea of what those cruel people would do to him…To Emily…It was too much.

"Nobody in the attic, Sir." A gruff voice reported.

The commanding officer sat himself at the kitchen table, adjacent from the kitchen cabinet with the false back securing Emily; he traced patterns in the dust on the surface.

"Almost like no one's been here in a while, hm?"

"Yes, sir. It is quite abandoned appearing downstairs as well."

The commander made a sound in the back of his throat. There was something about this home, something about the atmosphere. He could almost feel the tension of a soul hiding. He had been through too many homes to be fooled by dirty surroundings and deathly quiet halls of a once lively home.

The commander stood from the chair, it slamming to the ground behind him. A leg broke. The sound was loud in the otherwise quiet house. With the lack of heavy footsteps and angry shouts, without the sound of cars on the streets, the chair was like a gunshot to the children's ears.

There was a gasp.

Far too feminine and too soft to be one of his soldiers, the man knew he had found that little bastard hiding away. Right across from him, the cabinet he'd been staring at for the last fifteen minutes had been holding the putrid soul of a damned.

"Well, I suppose there's no one here," The commander began, quieting his footsteps as he headed to the rackety cabinet.

"But sir-"

The man continued, his voice betraying what he knew, "I guess there's no use in continuing to search this premises...Go fetch the other's and tell them we are making our departure…" The soldier watched silently, catching the undertone of his cruel official.

The soldier knew his overseer was a man without a heart, lacking any sort of empathy. The chief Gestapo bore eyes that showed nothing but apathy and a lack for mercy. Him and the other two soldiers that were usually with him under these sorts of 'investigations' had learned early in the game that he was unrelenting and enjoyed surprising the Jews when they thought they were going to survive. It was a horrible tactic that made the soldier shudder, he was still new to this…And disagreed with the ideology of killing them the precise moment they felt secure. They were nothing but animals and did not even deserve such a playful demise.

However, if the Jews were prey…That made the commanding officer a predator and like most predators, he enjoyed playing with his toys.

The head Gestapo stood near the cabinet, his voice gone hush. He fingered the silver gun he had previously oiled in the car as he drew it from his uniform slowly. With a wicked look about his features he threw the cabinet open and was met with two gleaming eyes so wide in fear, they looked as if they roll out of their sockets.

The girl's cry was shameless and more akin to a screech than anything. The commander grabbed her arm roughly and pulled her out and onto the floor. Emily fell unceremoniously and had the wind knocked out of her.

"Please…Please no!" She cried, scrambling backward and slamming her back into one of the chairs. The girl's hair was stringy with grease and plastered with sweat from obvious nerves and being in such a cramped space.

The commander looked down at her from over the bridge of his nose. His eyes were darkened, his hands behind his back concealing the gun effectively. Not even a hint of amusement was apparent on his face.

Emily's eyes darted around, looking upon the faces of the demons that had just searched her home. The three soldiers were looking at her with no hint of empathy, though the soldier in the middle looked quite disgusted with the display. Or was it he was disgusted with her existence?

She coughed, her lungs seemingly repressing air, not taking it in properly.

_Emily? Emily…They've gotten Emily._

Jack's breath hitched and he slowly unwrapped his head from his arms, plastering his ear to the false back and listening to the whimpers of his baby sister. What did he do? Were they going to kill her? Were they going to take her away? Emily was so gentle, so small for her age (just as Jack was himself) they'd kill her immediately. She'd be worthless, unfit to work, not useful. Her hands were lily white, pale in comparison to the crimson that stained the hands of the Nazi soldiers, they were not made for heavy labor or hard work.

_If I get out, they'll take us both. If I stay, I can try to find her and save her._

Jack closed his eyes, trying to block out the hysteria that was rancid acid affecting his mind. What did he do?

"Filthy, absolutely horrid," The hard voice commented, kicking Emily's side. The girl cried out and reacted as anyone would-By trying to strike back.

Those dark eyes, so inauspicious with hatred, were even more ominous. They reflected power and control, two things no human should ever have enough of to abuse.

But the Gestapo did.

And so he leaned forward, pulling her up by those dirty locks of mousy brown hair. His leather gloved fingers latched onto her scalp and she stood on shaky, weak legs. The muscles screamed at her for they hadn't been used in hours.

_Was it really hours ago Jack stuffed me in there?_

"How old are you?" The officer questioned.

Emily went still, staring at the man's chest that was gleaming in the weak light filtering through clouds out the dirty window.

"E-Eleven."

"And your name?"

"N-None of your business…" The girl relayed in a breath just above a whisper.

The Gestapo leaned close enough so that his alcohol permeated breath bit at her face and clawed into her nose with its bitter tint.

"Tell me your name, otherwise I will ensure you die without knowing who you are."

"I-I know who I…Am." Emily said once more, refusing to answer properly.

Jack bit his lip so hard blood trickled in a bead. Why wouldn't his sister just reply? In any other mindset the boy would be proud of his sister, proud of her willpower and absolute refusal of their commands. But now, no _now _when it mattered in the ways of life or death, he wanted her to just say the simple three syllables.

There was a loud bang and Jack's heart stuttered in his chest. Emily had been shoved against a wall by one of the soldiers and there was a sickening cry of pain. The Gestapo leaned closer still, his mouth an inch from her ear as he commanded to know her name. She stilled, she stopped fighting and her eyes were bright with the shiny promise of tears.

"E-Emily…Emily Frost…" Just saying the name felt painful.

"Let her go," The commander said and the girl was immediately tossed unceremoniously to the floor. "Emily Frost, such an ugly name, good thing no one will ever have to hear it again."

Jack's heart snapped in half at those words. He knew what they meant; they were going to kill his sister. Right then. Right there. He slammed his whole weight against the false back before he could even think it through and he tumbled out of the cabinet with frantic eyes.

"N-No! Kill me instead, stop it-"

The gunshot was loud, the crimson was bright, Emily's eyes went dull…And Jack collapsed to his knees, whiskey eyes devoid of anything but absolute, pure horror.

* * *

**A/N:** Come on Jack, this isn't the hunger games you can't volunteer as tribute, gdi


	2. Chapter 2- The Ride

If the soldiers were shocked by Jack's sudden appearance, they didn't show it.

Jack barely registered them anyhow, his umber eyes focused solely on Emily who was completely and utterly…Gone. He put a hand up to his own face, dug his nails into his cheek, and finally looked up at the Gestapo who stood like mountains above him. One of the lower officers leaned forward and hauled him up by his arms, standing him there for inspection.

"Hiding in that cabinet this whole time. How very sneaky, sneaky." The head officer taunted, "Ever so your kind are, I suppose. Get _it _out of here. I want it on the freight train, now."

Jack panicked. His heart was still weeping though his face was schooled to indifference. There was a sort of fire kindling behind his eyes, a flame of deceit and anger so raw that it could not concealed. The teenager bent down again, grabbing his sister who was still lukewarm and he hugged her to his chest, blood soaking into his dirty clothing.

"Y-You can't do this…" His voice was quivering, betraying the pain that he felt deep within the crevices of his heart. He pressed his fingers into Emily's scalp, feeling the mousy tendrils beneath his shaking fingers. His other hand touched her cheek, feeling as slowly…Ever so slowly, the heat ebbed away from her body. He shuddered at the thought of it, his anchor…She was gone. He cradled her head closer to his chest.

_But I'm still Jackson Overland Frost…_

The chief looked at his men with a sudden anger. His voice boomed with impatience, louder than even those damned boots when they walked about the wooden floorboards. "What are you waiting for? Get this _scum _out of here! Must I repeat myself?"

The three soldiers closed in on Jack with unison calls of, "Sir, no, Sir!"

The boy with whiskey eyes tried in vain to stay with his sister, to latch onto her and stay. Why wouldn't they just kill him? They had done so to Emily and it wasn't as if he were fit for work more than she. The teenager did not desire to die, but the pain that clouded his chest was so severe he questioned if he would ever be free of it.

"Can't we just shoot this one, sir? He's clinging to the corpse with an iron grip!"

Jack scoffed, his indifferent expression marring into one of blistering anger. "Yeah why not?-If I'm just scum, a common animal, I should be easy prey." Jack said with a listless tone. His arms were secure around his sister's torso now and even when he was hauled to his feet again, he held her close. She was his everything, the only good thing he had left in this Godforsaken world after the fate of his parents not too long prior. Emily had been all he had left.

And yet, this war had taken each item, each _person,_ one by one…Ending it with the soul he cherished most.

_I couldn't protect you. Oh God, I couldn't protect you, Emily._

"Absolutely not, are you three so weak as to not be able to grab this child from that worthless corpse?" The authortive figure made a dismissing wave of hand, "This one is to live."

_Ah, yeah, right. 'Live.' What sort of living can I do in the place you plan to take me?_

Finally, one of the soldiers lurched forward and pried at Jack's hands, peeling finger by finger off the inanimate body. Her skin was nearly cold and her blood slowly caking on material, and the officer cringed at the scream that left Jack's lips as they threw her body to some indefinite corner of the kitchen. All at once, there were hands everywhere, one held a gun to his temple, another shoved at his back to encourage him to walk. The child turned to look at his baby sister's desolate body one more time, but fingers latched onto his chin and made him halt.

"You have eyes that remind me of someone I know," The Gestapo said with a disgusting smile so insidious the very look of it burned Jack's eyes, "They're full of so much hatred and emotion…Well, you're no different than my soldiers and I. Our eyes…_They're the same_."

* * *

There were too many bodies. Men and women, toddlers and children, all with eyes desolate of hope and faith were crowded into the cramped freight train. A small boy with curly hair sat against what appeared to be a hundred year old woman. Her eyes were closed, the skin sagging on her cheeks. She had a million wrinkles that seemed to be like roads she had probably traveled in life, a lesson, each crinkled line a story of advice for the youth to adhere.

Jack stared at her for a good while. He could do nothing else as his ecru orbs stared aimlessly about. There was still a surplus of red decked about his shirt that had dried long ago, leaving a stiffly unwelcome feeling in the material of his shirt. Just another memory documented in blood, he supposed.

The teenager sighed and pulled his knees closer to his chest. He had just enough space to sit down if he cramped tightly into a ball. Jack's back pressed hard against the wall of the vehicle and he was easily being overwhelmed with the cries of children and grief stricken adults. The screams seemed to become louder as hours passed. He eventually put his hands to his ears and tried to relax. He figured if they had already been on here for so long, it'd only make sense they'd be traveling for another few hours.

_Has it been hours?_

The air was stagnant as there were no windows or cracks in the rickety doors to allow circulation. Jack felt suffocated and as if he were breathing recycled carbon dioxide. He imagined his lungs were desperate for the biting chill that came with autumn's winds, as they did all times of year, really. His heart stung at that thought, was he ever going to be able to enjoy the freedom of the seasons again?

He had only heard of what the camps did from rumors. He had only learned what the camps were _like _via the grapevine. Did they really starve and beat you like cattle? Was there really only enough food to _survive? _Seeing the dull eyes of his dead sister flash in his mind's sight, Jack rationalized that that wasn't too hard to believe.

_Not hard at all, really._

The old lady stirred, as if she were sleeping and having a nightmare. Or maybe she was finally feeling the sting from all those children's cries. Jack continued to watch with a poorly piqued interest, his mind contemplating what they would do to someone so frail. She looked so wise. The teen imagined her grandchildren and immediately wished he hadn't. They were probably already in a camp or hiding in perpetual fear.

Suddenly the teenager wondered which was worse.

And then realized he would know the answer soon enough.

_I hate small spaces; at least in a camp I can breathe…I can move…I can feel the wind against my cheeks._

"Put up quite the fight, didn't you?" A voice questioned from the Frost boy's left and effectively tearing him from those pestering thoughts. The child didn't even look over, didn't even make an acknowledgement besides a quick affirmative nod. However, the stranger continued, "Well, where's that fight now, kid?"

Jack took a shuddering breath.

"You've got the stains of crimson about your skin now, boy, you've got to live up to such a thing."

Whiskey eyes faltered as they desired to look upon this obnoxious stranger.

"Don't let them break you, child. The youth's got to stay strong, you hear me?"

Jack couldn't hold back anymore and he turned to the source of annoyance. His eyes were met with a tall man with broad shoulders, a toned torso, and a beard that would rival some of the local pub owners. The teenager grimaced, "And what about you old man?-Why can't the adults be strong too? Suddenly everyone thinks the kids have got the answer, huh?"

The stranger's face split into a grin that Jack thought was impossible to see. He'd been on this train for hours and not a _single_ expression had mimicked anything even close to a smile. But this human being, this strangely annoying human being, was _grinning _despite these odds…And it made a small tug of Jack's expression occur as well.

"Ah, don't go around calling me an old man!" The adult beamed, "I'm really a child at heart, that's why I know these things. I'd much prefer if you'd call me Arthur."

Jack's mouth couldn't formulate his own name. He knew it, of course, the mantra that kept him sane and all…But, Emily's last words were her name and the teen was unsure if he could relay his own anytime soon. So, instead, the brunette jumped over exchanging such information, "Just because I know your name doesn't mean you aren't an old guy anymore, y'know. That just means I can call you Old man Arth."

There was a sudden jostle of the train, as if it had hit something.

The vehicle stuttered on its path, the momentum slowing notably to all the crushed passengers. Several women shrieked and many more children cried out with newly streaming tears. Jack's eyes simply went wide and he stood up to feel if the train had stopped completely.

It hadn't.

However, the commotion had caused several passengers to be moved ajar. A small girl that looked even younger than Jack's sister had been knocked completely off balance. She slammed into a middle aged man's legs and he stumbled, a look of unadulterated rage crossing his face. He grabbed her hair, holding her up by it.

"You little wench!" He screeched, shaking her slightly, "You disgusting children are so loud and obnoxious, can you do nothing right? We're all here in this pain; do you see us adults cryin'?"

The girl had viridescent eyes, so bright and full of confusion. Jack watched the spectacle with a disgusted interest. He staggered a bit forward, narrowing his eyes at the display.

"M-Mister…I'm so-sorry…The train moved and there's so many people in here, it's hard not to…Not to hit someone…"

"I don't give a _shit _you little brat!" He slammed her towards the ground, only holding the collar of her pink shirt now. Those green eyes were now as wide as saucers with real fear.

Jack Frost looked around, his eyes scanning for this girl's parents, for anyone that would jump in and save her.

His stomach churned as he realized he was the only one concerned with the near violence. He couldn't even see Arthur anymore. The old geezer must have been slammed through a mass of people when the car had jostled.

"Children like you deserve to be _beat-"_

That was when Jack stepped in, his eyes flaring with that unconcealed anger they bore at the tragedy that had taken place not hours before. He jammed his way through several children and a few adults and had to tilt his head a bit to look the tormentor in the eye. He flexed his jaw as the boy put his hand lightly on the girl's arm in an act of comfort.

"You don't want to do that," Jack stated with a wavering voice, "Just let her go."

"Listen here you little shit, I'll fuckin' beat your ass too!"

The brunette grabbed the girl's arm again and pulled lightly, her feet stumbling as she neared Jack. Her emerald hues looked at Jack with a newfound sense of hope, looking at him as if he were some sort of fairytale spectacle. The teenager felt his heart throb.

"Do you not see what you're doing?" Jack screamed, loud enough to be heard over the wailing kids that still rang upset throughout the air. He used his free hand and jabbed his thumb at his right breast where a Jewish star had been sown onto his clothing, "You see this star? This _brand? _You've got one too; she's got one, and him!" The Frost boy began pointing at various strangers, "We're all the same! We're all here for the same reason, if you beat this girl, you're no better than those bastards that're doing this to us! Let her go. It was an accident, she apologized, just…Drop it."

The next thing Jack knew, his sight was blocked by a fist colliding with his right eye. He staggered back and slammed into that same elderly lady. Tears pricked at his eyes as he held his hand up to the injury. He glared at the old man and made his way back over, gently tugging on the girl for a third time. She looked at him with curiosity.

"I'm not going to hit you back; she doesn't need to see _more _violence. Unlike you, I don't want to lower myself to such dynamics." Frost stated with a voice tense with pain. He pulled harder on the child, finally freeing her from the blonde man's grip. Arthur appeared from behind the abusive stranger and wrapped an arm around his neck. He tugged him back and slammed his fist into the stranger's face, yelling something along the lines of, '_They're just children! Let it go_!'

Jack turned away and wove his way through a few men and women, trying to get away from that bastard who was intent on following them if he was freed from Arthur's grip. The whole while he kept a firm hold on the girl with grassy hues and stringy blonde hair, ensuring she was okay each time the vehicle rocked on its path in a dangerous fashion. It took some strategic setting, but they finally hid from the adult's view. Jack saw Arthur confronting the man again, swinging his fist, and then he looked away, unsure if he could handle seeing more violence today.

Jack turned his attention to the child he had saved, looking at her with relief as he saw she was, for the most part, okay. However, her lip began to tremble and Jack watched as her sadness unfolded across her pixie features in a flash. As if she had pent up all the fear when she was being harassed, the girl began to cry. Tears streaked down her cheeks in a constant flow and she wiped them away hurriedly, determined to prove she was strong in front of her savior.

"Thanks…For helping me even though it got you nothin' more than a black eye." She mumbled as she rubbed at her wet cheeks some more.

Jack gave a half smile and patted the girl's head lightly, "Don't mention it, kiddo. The bruise will fade, don't worry."

The girl finally gained control of her emotions and she gave a twinge of a smile in return, "I'm not a _kiddo, _my name's Sophie." The blonde girl took a shuddered breath, "And…It really had been an accident, slamming into that man I mean…But, the adults, they're all so angry right now. I just want my mommy, I was walking around looking for her and the car moved! But it doesn't matter anyhow, I can't see her. She isn't on this train."

The girl's voice was a whisper so Jack made his just as quiet.

"Well Sophie, lucky for you, you've come across one of the _coolest_ people you'll ever know," Jack noted he felt a bit more like himself speaking with Sophie and it cleared his morbid thoughts for the time being, "Don't worry, I'll protect you until you meet up with your mom again."

"Really?" Her eyes were wide and innocent, so trusting for such a cruel world.

"Of course, no matter what they do, we're going to have a little fun instead. I promise."

* * *

**A/N: **Jack, stop making promises I won't let you keep. I mean-


	3. Chapter 3- Selection

**A/N: **So a (*) means theres' a note at the bottom that will credit something if it's a quote or explain a term/word or perhaps something that may be hinted but not fully explained due to Jack's lack of knowledge in it. This will be applicable to all chapters from now on.

Thanks everyone for all your feedback and follows and kudos and such! I appreciate them greatly, they really help me feel motivated for this story!

* * *

They arrived at dawn.

There had been no further strife with the violent man and Sophie had fallen asleep long into the night. Jack had allowed her to put her head on his lap as she breathed steadily, only shifting when a nightmare made its way into the crevices of her mind. Each time she made a pained whimper or shivered from whatever evils plagued her gentle mind the brunette would run his fingers through her hair in a kind gesture of reassurance and she would immediately be released from evil's grasp.

Though, because Jack had been so sure keeping tabs on Sophie's quiet form, he had not slept at all. Albeit, he was unsure if he'd have been able to regardless. The night had deemed the train cold and even when the children had all gone quiet from exhaustion and a lack of tears, the creaks of the wooden track as the wheels of the freight train bounced about them kept him staring into a void of nothing. With so many thoughts flying around his mind, Jack would jump at the smallest things. He became paranoid and would cringe at the shift of lighting, far too aware of the shadows beckoning presence. His nails dug into the palms of his hands as anxiety of what awaited him outside this cramped space filtered into his mind. The dangerous thoughts were like flies and his mind a web crafted by an insidious spider, capturing them and dining on them.

No matter how many hours Jack Frost had been kept within that space, no matter how long the hours had been dragged along, now that the vehicle was jerked to a halt...It was like a distant dream and a blink of an eye. He gently tapped Sophie's shoulder and when she would not stir, he bent close and began to call out her name.

"Sophie…" His voice was light as he firmly shook her shoulder, "It's time to go, the car's stopped."

She opened her eyes and rubbed the bleary remnants of sleep from them with her fists. Emerald orbs came to focus and she nodded slowly, "We're getting off?"

"Yep, come on; let's stand up so we aren't trampled by the guy with those gross feet."

The blonde girl let out a small giggle and smoothed her shirt as she stood, staring at the door of the freight train. Some men and women were barging their way to the doors of the unknown.

_And for what? Rushing to a future you can't even predict?_

Jack shook his head slightly and helped Sophie up by offering his hand. She grasped it with an iron grip for such a small child and he flashed a perfect smile, her own seeming so out of place in the rickety car.

The doors of the vehicle began to open.

"Jack, I'm scared." She whispered, still clinging to his hand tightly.

He crouched down a bit and nodded, "You want to know a secret?"

The blonde girl shook her head, "No, I want to go home now. I'm scared, I want my Daddy."

"Sophie, it's okay to be scared," Jack squeezed her hand reassuringly, "Because I'm scared too. Look around, everyone's scared, but we'll be okay. I've got you."

Another tight squeeze.

The doors opened with a sudden force, swinging on their hinges. Dim light filtered into the freight train and Jack, along with the others, were ushered out in what was seemingly a hurried fashion. Men were positioned at the doors carrying guns bigger than someone of Jack's lithe stature could ever manage. There were glints of cruelty and something almost insidiously inhumane about the way their eyes flickered from head to head, Jew to Jew.

_Do they really see us as animals? I'm a human, Soph's a human, Arthur's a human…But, we're animals? Why?_

The teenager shuddered as he exited and had to be under the scrutiny of those men. He felt his breath catch in his throat and he clenched his teeth tightly together. They were herded, like a mass of cattle, into the front gates of what appeared to be a camp. The premises appeared large, but the living quarters were small. Jack could smell something faintly in the distance-A putrid burnt that stirred acid in his stomach and caused him to cough. He held a hand to his face but the putrid odor seemed to slip from between his fingers and assault his nostrils anyhow so he dropped the hand in defeat.

"What's that smell(*)?" Sophie whispered, nudging the brunette with her elbow.

He shrugged, "Idunno, Soph. Smells pretty gross if you ask me though, bet it's the food."

The joke effectively cracked a grin across the child's face. However, Jack could not return it for the acid in his stomach was churned by the overwhelming anxiety he felt standing there. The wind was howling around them, tossing his already messy tendrils to and fro. It was almost as if the winds were trying to tell Jack something, trying to adhere him, but the whispers were too unintelligible. He strained his ears, listened closer, but it was no use. The wind spoke too different a language.

The Nazi guards surrounded them like flies and shoved and prodded their sides, making them walk quicker than necessary into the camp.

"Hurry up! We haven't all day for your sorry asses, time to sort you!" The voices yelled and Jack faintly wondered what on earth 'sorting' meant.

He figured he would know soon enough.

He and Sophie were almost immediately separated by the barging of adults cutting through them. The brunette pulled the young girl close, squeezing her hand as tight as possible while facing the epitome of his anxiety. The metal of the gates squealed open, a harsh shrill reflective of wailing banshees, and they were ushered inside. From the terrain to the dawn sky, everything looked dead, depressed, and downright morbid.

Everyone looked lost as the officials began to shout out numbers and names, putting them into lines. Jack watched as him and the blonde he was so adamant on protecting were sardined into an endless appearing line. How so many people could have been in that set of three freight trains was beyond Jack. He knew it simply had to have been inhumane.

Hunger gnawed at his insides as they shuffled forward. _Is my stomach trying to eat itself? _The wind that was once a warning friend was now a nipping foe and it clawed at his cheeks making them an angry red. He glanced at Sophie who had long since gone quiet; her eyes drooped with exhaustion and her small frame shivering like a leaf under the harsh bite of frigid breezes. Everything was a catastrophe around them. His line seemed to be the only one behaving, whereas on either side (for there were only five or so lines) people were in huge masses, yelling and screaming.

A woman who appeared to be in her fifties held onto a small child, a boy with the promise of innocence and childhood. She screeched as if she had been burned alive and held the boy's body like a vice. A man in one of those overbearing uniforms swept the child into his arms, carrying it to the line far to the left. He handed it to another SS officer who dropped the child to the ground and the small boy scrambled to his feet with tears down his cheeks albeit following the assembly line as it disappeared further into the camp.

"He's my son!" She cried, reached out again, almost as if she could pull her kin back to her with will alone.

The SS officer simply grimaced and pulled out a gun, effectively silencing the entire crowd. Without so much as a word, he shot her dead.

Jack covered Sophie's eyes and shuffled her to his other side, completely blocking the tragedy from her view. The girl asked no questions for what had just happened was explanatory enough. It did not need to be recited. It did not need anything more than what it was given.

_Death is now apart of everyday life, I'm assuming. Yet, will I ever become used to it?_

Jack hoped he never did. Death was _not _something he wished to become accustomed to, because then, the Nazis had won. They had taken everything-His sanity, then, included.

"Tell him you're eighteen, girl." A man with a crooked nose told the teen girl in front of Jack.

"Why would I lie? Won't they shoot me dead for such a thing?"

"If you go to the left, you'll be killed anyhow girl! You'd be considered too young, or unfit to work. Say you're eighteen! They'll send you to work…But 'least you'll live!"

Another hour went by of these lines slowly being shuffled to either the right or the left. Jack told Sophie short stories he remembered from school or heard as a child himself. They kept their voices hushed as to keep the attention away, and soon enough they passed a man who ordered they take off their shoes and toss them into a pile. Sophie complained about the cold but Jack claimed there was nothing better than Nature's bite and the girl quieted.

Finally, _finally _they were basically next in line. The teenager who had stood in front of Jack was being scanned from head to toe by two doctors. Now that the brunette paid attention, he could see she had a slim physique for a girl, almost rivaling that of a male's. Her hips and torso were slim and her hair was cut in a butchered fashion. Jack could see stray wisps of coloured hair that brushed against her tan skin and he wondered if she were one of those whimsical gyspys he heard about in the past.

"To the right girl, go to the right. You're fit enough," One doctor said, gesturing dismissively.

"I'm not going with all of those females! I'm more male than half of these men, let me be with them."

The same doctor looked up from his clipboard and scowled, "I am a doctor, I can tell if your anatomy is that of a male or females, now do not test me. Get in that line and tell me your name, whore."

She scoffed, "I am not a whore and most certainly not fit for any sort of womanly work I assume you've got planned for me! If you're not going to consider me what I am, then you might as well shoot me dead."

Jack watched the scene unfold with a hanging jaw. How ridiculous she was begging for death when the man just prior to her had been on his knees begging for life when the SS officer had dragged him to his fate.

The doctor, who seemed the head of the two, gave a wicked smile and nodded his head, "Fine, if you consider yourself to be that of a boy you will be put to the same work as they. You can mine rock and work yourself in manual labor to death, see if I care. You can be with the _dogs, _just wait until they lay their eyes on you, girl. They'll eat you, devour you, and savor the flavor of your flesh. They'll treat you as they would any other piece of meat. Fuck you and then leave you, worthless damsel, in distress."

"Tatiana or Tooth," The rebellious girl said flashing a smile that was missing the top front teeth, "Write that down in your God forsaken book. No matter what you say, I'm good enough to roll with the guys."

The silent doctor, the one who seemed quiet as a mouse…Or maybe a _snake, _scribbled the name down quickly. His golden hair swished in the wind and he lifted his dark eyes to look at the next prisoners.

Jack felt a newfound respect for the girl, _Tooth _as he recalled when he stepped forward. The weakness that had turned his legs to jelly had suddenly recoiled into the back of his mind. The brunette stood straight as he stepped confidently forward with Soph for inspection. The doctors took a single glance up and down and pointed at each direction,

"Your names?"

"Sophie and Jack."

The doctor with golden hair and skin akin to that of sand narrowed his eyes as he reached forward to tilt Jack's face with his fingers. They were strong and cold, like a corpse's stiffened flesh stretched thin over knobby bones and he gave a small smile. It made Jack feel uncomfortable, like every nightmare come to life. Those dark eyes that contrasted so specifically with his sun kissed skin were like deep wells of an inky poison that lurched right into Jack's soul and coated it with all things antiseptic, chloroform, and sharp. Like a scalpel on a surgical table, the gaze pierced through Jack's pale skin and cut deeply into him. Almost as if the silent doctor were looking at his innards with his eyes.

"Mansnoozie?" The other man asked, "Do you wish to keep this one?"

There was single nod, a short '_yes.'_

"To the right, girl to the left."

Jack's heart sunk.

"W-Wait no, I can't leave without her. I…I…"

The doctor rolled his eyes, "Look boy, get your fucking ass over in that line before I have to call an SS to beat you into submission."

Sophie cringed and tried to pull away from Jack, "Just let me go! It's fine!"

He panicked, "Sophie no, you're coming with me."

He began to tug her over but the golden doctor stopped him with a single shove of the shoulder. He waved his finer in a condescending motion and tried to gesture an SS over to take care of the issue. However, most of them were busy at different lines. Both doctors sighed simultaneously and began to pull out their own weapons.

Sophie's emerald eyes glistened with fresh tears and she began pulling more insistently. She got free precisely when the two tormentors pulled out their weapons and began to aim at the girl. She sprinted away, her hair the last thing Jack could see. The desperate teenager tried to follow but he was stopped by a large hand on his shoulder. He hunched, a familiar loss paining his heart and he choked on his misery.

_Sophie…No wait, Sophie! I have to…Protect you!_

His mouth was full of cotton, he could say nothing. He tried, his mouth working around the syllables, but not able to make sound. He was rendered speechless.

"I'll see you again someday, Jack! Thank you," Sophie yelled, disappearing into the crowd of destined deaths. The boy bit his lip, his brows knit, and his heart heavy. Slowly, ever so slowly, he turned to meet the figure pressed close behind him. He was met with blue orbs drowning him with their intensity akin to that of the ocean. They suffocated him. Cut right through him. Melted him into obedience with the single stare. He was steered to the appropriate line silently as the gypsy girl from earlier, Jack had forgotten her name in his sorrow, put a hand lightly on his shoulder.

"Perhaps you will see her again," Tooth said quietly.

"And perhaps we won't all die here," Jack replied sarcastically.

* * *

**A/N: **Next chapter we meet some more charatcers. Yay! Pitch and Jamie primarily, I may introduce another but maybe I'll hold off on him for a bit. So unless it wasn't implied properly, Tooth is a gypsy and a homosexual. This is why she is in the camp and will not bear a star on her clothing-But a pink triangle.

I am sosososossoo excited to write Pitch and Jack's meeting! Its going to be intense and may come off as even funny…Until Jack gets punished I mean-

Wow I have a big mouth.

(*)- What they smell is the burning bodies of the deceased.


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